Chapter Three: Shot in the Dark

"A shot in the dark. A past lost in space. Where do I start? The past and the chase. You hunted me down like a wolf, a predator. I felt like a deer in the lights." - David Guetta feat. Sia

The flight from New York to Boise, Idaho was uneventful, but longer than anticipated. The flight was delayed due to engine complications and all the passengers unloaded and redirected to another flight. Three hours past the scheduled departure time, they were up in the air. Claire Bennet was accustomed to being adaptable, but after the emotional rollercoaster of her uncle's wedding, she longed to be back home with her chosen family, away from the chaos of the life she had purposely left behind. Once the plane was up in the air, it gave her time to digest what had happened.

Her thoughts centered on Sylar. I'm not that person anymore. I can prove it. Just give me a chance. He seemed sincere, well as sincere as any serial killer could be. She leaned her head back onto her seat, glancing out the window, as they ascended above the clouds. She missed flying. Peter had taken her a few times and Nathan as well. It had been different flying with each of them. And then there was how West had flown. She unconsciously found herself rolling her eyes at the thought of her short-term relationship with the high-school boy. He'd probably freeze if he was ever confronted with Sylar. For some reason that thought was amusing and she found herself smiling.

It was true that Sylar had never lied to her. She tried to keep that fact in mind. The last five years, he had been nothing but a close friend to both Peter and his new wife, Emma. Her uncle had told her briefly that he held a job and remained in touch with many of their "special" acquaintances, helping them whenever he could. It seemed surreal, almost like a prolonged April Fool's joke, but Peter rarely joked. There had been no indication of Sylar abusing his powers. Even when Noah had confronted him on the roof, he had simply walked away.

That was not what the old Sylar would have done. The Sylar she knew would have tossed him aside with the flick of a finger and quite possibly would have killed him right in front of her, just to watch her face contort in horror. He wouldn't have even flinched. He would have gone back to their conversation as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. But the man she had met on the roof wasn't the old Sylar. He still had the same snarky attitude, deriving pleasure from making her uncomfortable, but he wasn't inflicting pain or extracting powers.

Her gut instinct was to trust him. It was a struggle. He had killed. He had hurt people she loved, taken both her parents from her, caused so much pain and destruction. So has Dad, she thought bitterly recalling how her father had tried to force her to stay in the city. Noah Bennet was no saint. His lies, violent nature, and manipulation had taken several lives as well. Though he had often blamed Sylar, his own deception was the sole reason Sandra had requested the divorce, diving their family permanently.

Even now it bothered Claire to remember how the house had been boxed up, items separated into two main piles of cardboard towers. She kept her face turned toward the window, feeling a stray tear slide down her face. Her family had always been safe, a sacred place that was normal, or at least attempted to be normal. After the divorce, the last shred of her pre-ability life, her childhood, was gone. She shifted in her seat, trying to ignore those memories. They were more painful than others she had been forced to endure.

She had tried to rebuild a safe place at college with Gretchen and the girls from the sorority, but it wasn't the same. In the end, the family she had created with the residents at the carnival was the closest she had come. It meant a great deal to her. She was thankful to be returning. The thought of being back with her friends soothed her. She knew they would want to know all about her trip. She wondered what details she should share.

The flight attendants began to hand out snacks and bottles of water. She declined, preferring to watch out the window as they moved through the clouds. At some point she drifted off to sleep.

Claire was sitting at the table in the backroom of Doyle's Marionette Theater in Costa Verde. Her mom and Meredith were there, sitting across from her. A gun was in her hand and she was pointing it at her biological mother. She could feel Doyle behind her, watching, coaxing her to shoot one of her mothers. Being forced to play Russian Roulette with her family members had been one of her worst memories.

Her hand was shaking, but her arm moved on it's own, being directed by the puppet master. Back and forth she went between the two. She tried moving against the hold he held over her. Her muscles wouldn't obey. Tears were streaming down her face. Her arm hurt from the conflicting orders. She was aiming for her mom now. Then back to Meredith. The ping-pong effect was terrifying.

"Stop it! Stop!" She heard herself screaming. Doyle looked at her with little emotion, obviously enjoying his total control of the situation.

Up to this point, everything was the same as it had been in real life. Her fear, her pain, her disappointment in herself as she realized she couldn't save anyone. She had failed Meredith and her mother by coming here and dragging them both into her reckless plan to capture Doyle. Now one of them would pay the ultimate price for her hasty decision.

Then the mood shifted. The lights in the backroom flickered. Doyle glanced up, looking around, the overly pleased smirk on his face vanishing. His smugness was now replaced by fear. Claire's arm was still shaking, still in pain. She was able to turn her head slightly. That's when she saw him. Sylar.

Doyle had already raised his arms. His hold on Claire, Meredith, and Sandra began to slip away as he focused all his energy on the serial killer. The cheerleader took advantage of it, immediately jumping up from her seat to check on the older women. They were just as shaken up as her, but otherwise unharmed. She forced them both to their feet.

Off to the side, the two men were glaring at each other with intensity, as if locked in a serious staring contest. Claire couldn't decipher if either was winning. She knew better than to wait around and see who the victor turned out to be. She pushed Meredith and Sandra towards the fire exit, directing them outside. She moved to follow them, but paused in the doorway, hesitating.

"You really think that you can control me?" Sylar was hissing at the puppet master.

Claire watched blood seep from Doyle's nose, as he crumbled to the floor. She glanced over at Sylar, who was watching her. He didn't move in her direction or Doyle's. His mouth twitched, as if he wanted to say something. Just as he opened his mouth, she heard her father calling her. She pivoted around, watching Noah burst through the door, gun at the ready. Meredith came in right behind him, flames dancing up from her hands. Noticing Doyle was incapacitated, her dad pulled her into a hug.

"Thank God, you're alright. What were you thinking? You could have gotten your mother killed!"

Ignoring her father's accusatory tone, she glanced over his shoulder where Sylar had been standing. There was nothing there, no shred of proof that the man who had haunted her nightmares for so many months had been in the same room. He had saved her life. Claire wanted to know why. To what purpose was his sudden hero act? How had he known where she was? Why bother to save her and her family at all? Why hadn't he killed Doyle? The questions swirled around in her head.

She could hear his voice repeating over and over again the same words. I'm not that person anymore. I can prove it. Just give me a chance. The words got faster and louder. She felt as if she was spinning around, out of control, confused, lost, disoriented. The words became more desperate, as if he was begging for something. She backed up, putting her hands over her ears, but the inertia was too strong and she fell forward into darkness.

Claire jumped in her seat, shaken awake by the plane landing. Her heart was racing in her chest. She felt hot and cold at the same time, as her mind frantically tried to wrap around what she had just experienced. She sat up straight, trying to rid those images from her brain. Her head felt electrified and her stomach was still doing somersaults, as if it had all really happened. It was only a dream, or at least that was what she told herself, despite how real each of the moments had felt.

The plan pulled up to the airport. Passengers rushed to gather their belongings and hurry off. She watched them all, taking in their frustrations and worries to avoid dealing with her own. Claire waited until they were all done, before unbuckling and leaving her seat. She needed the extra time to rid herself of the anxiety she was experiencing. She decided to blame the dream on her constantly flow of teenage hormones.

Claire was happy to see Tracy when she rolled her carry-on bag out of the airport. It was the first sign of home and the perfect distraction. She released a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding. Tracy gave her a stunning smile and a wave, before popping the tiny trunk of the vehicle. Eli had retrieved her a red convertible a few months earlier. Tracy was more than happy to take it out for a spin any chance she got.

"Hey!" Tracy pulled her into a tight, quick hug.

"Hi." Claire returned the hug. "Thanks for picking me up."

"Of course. Any reason to take this baby out for a spin," Tracy grinned, running her hand down the side of the cherry red car. "So, how was it?"

"Well, my dad was there." Claire gave Tracy a look.

The older blonde laughed. "And?"

Claire scrunched up her face and altered her voice in her best impersonation of her adoptive father. "I'm doing this to keep you safe. I'm only trying to protect you."

"Nothing ever changes."

"No," Claire shook her head as she put her luggage in the trunk. "Noah Bennet never changes."

"He is your father."

Claire shut the trunk with force. "He lied to me."

"Everyone lies, Claire. It's human nature."

Human. Claire shook her head. She both loved and hated that word. Human meant normal, it meant a life with certain restrictions in order to show the value of what limited freedom they had. It also meant the difference between her and 99.5% of the rest of the planet's inhabitants, because though she was technically human, she would live beyond the rest of humanity. She would never feel pain. She would never age. She would never be normal. There were no limitations to her life.

"He had good intentions, at least," Tracy insisted.

"The road to hell is paved with good intentions."

"Oh hunny," Tracy laughed, "Don't preach to me. I worked on Capitol Hill. Where do you think the road to hell leads?"

Claire grinned, as she got into the passenger's seat. One of the reasons she enjoyed Tracy's company so much was because the woman never talked down to her. Tracy told it like it was. She didn't bother to sugar coat things. Claire looked up to Tracy. The older blonde was a strong woman. She had managed to work with Nathan and survive his attempt to corral all the Specials up. After realizing how the world had changed, she had forsaken the life she had built for herself and created a new one at the carnival. Though Claire was surprised she had paired up with Eli, she supposed Tracy was wise enough to make her own choices when it came to men.

Tracy sat down in the driver's seat, slamming the door shut. "Ready to go home?"

"Absolutely!"

The convertible took off for the highway. As they pulled away from the busy airport, Claire felt her nerves disperse like the crowds. Boise wasn't a large city in comparison to New York City, but it was still bigger than the carnival wanted to attract. After the stunt Samuel had pulled in Central Park, the family had decided to choose more remote locations. About thirty miles outside the Boise city limits, the carnival had set-up in a small town called Adrian, near Snake River.

While they drove along the highway, Tracy and Claire remained quite. The wind made it difficult to hold a conversation, but Claire didn't mind. This was as close to flying, without a plane, as she got. She had reminded Peter on a number of occasions how much she wished he would keep the ability to fly. If she could have chosen, it was the one she would have picked for herself. Though immortality seemed to be everyone's favorite, she understood it to be more of a curse than a gift. It wasn't freedom. Flying was as close to freedom as she would ever get. Without Nathan, Peter, or West around, that small escape had been taken from her. The convertible was a replacement, even if it was a poor one.

As they passed shopping centers and strip malls, she noticed a Japanese steak house. "Damn," she snapped.

"What's wrong?" Tracy shouted over the wind.

"I forgot to thank Hiro. It was the first time I've seen him since he brought me to the carnival and I forgot to say thank you."

Tracy shrugged. "Send him an email."

"This isn't an email kind of thing."

"Postcard?"

Claire smiled, as she shook her head, staring out at the passing scenery. They fell into silence again. The homes began to spread out. Fewer shops and business popped up. After a few more minutes, a sign for Adrian caught her eye. She watched, expectantly as the lights and sounds of the carnival began to break through the horizon, as night fell. Home, she thought to herself. Any lingering nerves vanished as she saw the tent tops and familiar signage.

Tracy maneuvered through a few people walking up to the carnival from the town, to an area in the back where the residents kept their personal vehicles. There weren't many. Most had transportation and living quarters in the same vehicle. By the time, Tracy had put the convertible in park, Claire was bombarded by Amanda and Micah.

"Claire, you're back!" Amanda practically jumped on her, as she tried to get out of her seat.

"Jeez, give her room to breathe."

"Shut up, Micah!"

Lyle and Claire had fought, but Micah and Amanda never stopped it seemed. They were the siblings she had always wanted. They were there for her day in and day out. They knew about her ability, accepted it, and loved her despite it. They constantly caused her to laugh and at the same time gave her a headache but she loved them anyway.

"I missed you two," she greeted them, hugged Amanda with her left arm and Micah with her right arm. "I'm surprised you didn't kill each other while I was gone."

"Please, she couldn't even boil water."

"There's no point in killing him. He never leaves his trailer. He could be electrocuted and no one would notice until his rotting corpse began to stink."

Claire smiled to herself as she went to the trunk to grab her belongings. Tracy was already there, giving her a knowing smirk. "And you came back for this?"

"Home sweet home," Claire confirmed with a grin.

Tracy gave her a one-armed hug. "Glad you're back. I'll see you at dinner, alright? I need to find Eli. He said he needs to talk to me about something important."

"A ring?"

"Don't even say it." Tracy made a face. "Dinner?"

"Save me a seat," Claire agreed. "I might still be unpacking."

"You were only gone for two days." Micah reminded her.

"A girl after my own heart." Tracy mused, giving Claire a wink before she walked away.

Claire reached for her bag, but Micah had already begun carrying it towards her trailer. "How was it?"

"Was the wedding gorgeous?" Amanda asked. "I bet your grandmother spared no expense."

"Does she ever?" Claire muttered, wondering how Angela Petrelli would take the news if she told her she wasn't allowed to plan anything for her wedding. Not that that's ever going to happen, Claire thought. Even if it did, she wouldn't be having it in New York City, which was probably sacrilegious to Angela.

"How was Peter?"

"Giddy."

"Was anyone else there?" Micah queried. He kept tabs on everyone digitally. He had given up the Rebel cause to the extent he had previously, but he had never stopped looking out for Specials, even those who were currently safe.

"Matt Parkman, Ando and Hiro, Mohinder," Claire rattled off. "And my dad."

Amanda and Micah exchanged a look. "How was that?" her friend asked, moving in front of Micah to open the trailer door for Claire.

"About as painful as I expected it to be."

Micah set the suitcase down near Claire's bed, before joining her and Amanda at her mini kitchen table. "Was he mad?"

"Of course he was mad!" Amanda cried. "He's Noah Bennet, permanently mad, overly dramatic, manipulative, Company-man." Claire found herself laughing at Amanda's description.

"He's overly dramatic?" Micah asked, sarcastically hinting. The fire-starter reached across the table to swat him. "You're just proving my point." Shaking his head with a wide grin, he turned back to Claire. He opened his mouth to ask another question, when a knock at the trailer door caused him to answer it instead.

Edgar came in. "Claire," he nodded to her. She rose from her seat going over to receive another welcoming embrace. "Glad to have you back." Edgar released her from his hug. He noted Amanda and Micah and shifted uncomfortably in his spot. "I realize you're settling in, but I need you to come to the main tent."

"Now?" Amanda cried. "We were catching up."

Edgar's face was stern. "We're holding council. It's important."

Claire understood that look. Council normally only happened during the first of the month to discuss matters of the family and business. Only Edgar, Eli, Tracy, and a few other senior members of the family were present at those meetings. To have an unscheduled meeting tonight meant an emergency topic had surfaced. "What happened while I was in New York?"

"Nothing. It's what's happened now that you're back."

She raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"Someone is here for you."

Claire groaned. "I don't want to see my father." She rolled her eyes and turned away from Edgar. She moved across the trailer, bending down over her suitcase to put away a stack of clothes. "I thought we already covered that." She was enraged at the idea of her father following her here. He had never been one to follow the rules, but she thought he would have at least granted her the benefit of twenty-four hours before trying to shove "his way" down her throat again.

"It's not Bennet."

"She just got back!" Amanda whined. "Spill the beans, Edgar! Who is it?"

He didn't answer right away. His silence was a dead giveaway.

Claire froze. Suddenly the nerves she had experienced earlier on the plane came back. Being back home had consoled her, but she could feel the change now. There was something different in the air around the carnival. Something that was causing their leader to be over cautious and cryptic. She slowly turned back around to face him. Edgar sighed, before confirming her instinct.

"Sylar."


Stupid meddling Petrelli's, Gabriel thought bitterly, as he sat in the main tent of the carnival, waiting. Always thinking they know best.

Edgar had not been happy to see him when he had arrived at the front entrance. He hadn't exactly been expecting a warm reception, considering the terms under which he had left. However, he thought the sword-weilding speedster would have given up holding grudges against his own kind. The new leader of the carnival had told him to remain in the tent, under the watchful eyes of "Mr. Multiples", or as the others knew him, Eli.

Gabriel knew where Edgar had gone. It was plain to see. Even without Parkman's ability, he could tell Edgar was reporting his presence to Claire Bennet. If he had been surprised by the coldness Edgar had exhibited, he was sure he was in for a similar response from the ex-cheerleader. She certainly hadn't warmed up to him when he had offered to share his Pinot with her. He was wondering if being here was a good idea. Peter and Angela Petrelli's words came back to him.

"This is perfect, Gabe! She can't turn you away if you show up there." Peter was saying, overly confident. "The carnival takes care of their own. If you become one of them, she'll have to like you." Gabriel knew part of it was the wedding high and another part of it was the flutes of champagne Peter had indulged in.

"Perfect is a stretch." He informed his friend. "This is a shot in the dark."

"I agree with Peter. You should go." Angela announced, surprising both men. She poured herself a cup of tea from the dessert table, stirring in a dollop of honey before raising her eyes to meet his.

"Excuse me?"

"Claire will come around. She's stubborn, strong-willed, but not unforgiving. Noah is a prime example of that." Peter nodded at his mother's words, before spotting Emma on the dance floor and taking off in her direction. He left his best man alone with his mother. It was not the place Gabriel wanted to be.

"Maybe. In a century or so."

"You don't have a century."

"I have eternity." He responded, deflated. Eternity was more of a punishment than a gift. He wished the Pinot would start to work, but his healing abilities had already transformed his liver. The affects of alcohol would hold no power tonight. He dropped his eyes, bored with the pointless conversation.

"Claire will need you."

"She needs me to leave her alone."

Angela grabbed his wrist, forcing him to look her in the eyes. "Listen to me. Claire's life is in danger. I've seen it. You need to be there. You're the only one of us that can save her."

His attention snapped back to the Petrelli matriarch. "Claire's the Indestructible Girl. She can't die."

"I think we both know there are ways around that."

He understood her ability and had seen the consequences of listening and not listening to her warnings. As much as he wanted to tell her off, he felt compelled to listen. He wanted details. He needed to find a way to stop whatever vision Angela had had. "What have you seen?"

"That's not important, Gabriel." He was taken back by the use of his birth name. She always called him Sylar. "What is important is for you to go to the carnival. Everything else will fall into place." She sensed his hesitation, but didn't offer anything else. She removed the tea bag from her cup, tossing it away as effortlessly as she spun lies. He was uneasy. However, he couldn't tell if his unease was stemming from Angela's prediction or his misgivings toward the woman.

"How can I trust you?"

She grinned. "You can't, but I have a feeling that isn't going to stop you." She took a long sip of her tea, eyes still focused on him, while he mulled over his options. After a moment, he began walking away. "Have a safe flight, Gabriel. Give Claire a hug for me."

His memory was interrupted when Edgar reentered the tent, along with Tracy and a few other carnies Gabriel didn't recognize. There was a red-haired woman who was standing close to a raven-haired man with glasses. Noting the humble bands on their left hands, he pegged them as husband and wife. There was another man, as well. Older and alone, but he seemed to hold himself with authority, the same way Edgar did. They all stood there, taking him in, as he sat on a crate in the center of the main ring. Under the lights, it was oddly reminiscent of the interrogation room he had been in when he woke up with no memory of who he was.

Claire walked into the tent, trying to avoid looking at him. She stood next to the red-hair woman, who gave her a warm smile and reached over to squeeze her hand. The small, blonde smiled back, but appeared uncomfortable.

"Normally we don't vote on a new resident." Edgar stated. "However, given your past indiscretions, it seems only appropriate to put your request to a vote."

"I'm not asking to stay permanently," Gabriel reminded him. "Think of it as a vacation."

"Right." Edgar's tone said he didn't believe Gabriel. Claire looked up. He could tell he had her interest. She was probably hoping he would stay for a day or two and be off. Since Angela hadn't been able to pinpoint a timeframe for the alleged attack against her grand-daughter, he wasn't sure how long his vacation would last.

"Even so, we have agreed to put it to a vote." He turned to Mr. Multiples and began circling Gabriel. "Eli?"

"Against."

"I agree." The leader turned to the couple behind him. "Alicia?"

"For."

Edgar didn't seemed surprised by her answer. Gabriel was. He didn't know the woman, but she seemed fairly confident in her choice. She hadn't hesitated and her voice was even. Instantly, he liked her. Whether she was aware or not, she had just given him a chance. It was an opportunity to prove himself to Claire, follow through on the promise he had made to himself and her, and potentially save her life.

"George?"

"For."

"Tracy."

"For."

"Ernie?"

"Against," the older man replied, sighing out the answer as if he had been holding it in.

"Three to three." Edgar gave Gabriel an unpleasant look. His hand was twitching. Gabriel imagined he wanted to go for his knives. It would be an easier treatment than waiting while people who didn't know him decided his fate and ultimately Claire's. He let his hands drop between his knees, as he exhaled.

"I had a feeling it would come to this." The carnival leader turned around, walking back to the group. "Claire."

Gabriel's head snapped up.

She was examining him. It was the first time he could recall seeing her look at him as if he was a person, not a monster. Her gaze wasn't particularly friendly or warm, but it wasn't filled with the seething hate it normally held. There was anger, yes, but along with that anger was confusion, curiosity, and even a hint of intrigue. If he had ever wanted Parkman's power, it was in this very moment he desired it the most. Her eyes were searching his face, carefully directing each crease, every muscle movement.

Whatever she was looking for, she discovered it. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. He noticed how Alicia moved to squeeze her hand again, reassuringly. When Claire opened her eyes, she stared right into his. All the emotions that had been swirling around had vanished. Her walls were up again. He felt his heart drop into his stomach.

Her voice was barely audible, but he heard her clear as day. As soon as she spoke, she turned on her heel and left the tent.

"For."


A/N: Thank you for those who are reading this and have left reviews. I'm glad someone is taking an interest.